


lines of ink

by sunflowerbright



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, and boys being in love with each other, and enjolras pouting, and smug!grantaire, bc it was asked for, cute lil' drabble with absolutely no plot just these two being cute really, lots of pouty!jolras this way, sillies, written for lightjolras on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is not exactly a good artist. Grantaire doesn't mind</p>
            </blockquote>





	lines of ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelheaded_hipsters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheaded_hipsters/gifts).



> written for [Zoe](http://lightjolras.tumblr.com/)

Grantaire snickers as Enjolras huffs in frustration, throwing the paint-brush away from him.

"I cannot do it," the man says, turning around to face Grantaire.

"It is not that difficult," Grantaire says, still smiling lightly.

"Maybe for you it isn't," Enjolras looks even more frustrated now. "You have a gift for it. You were born with it, and even through practice I cannot seem to grasp your gifts."

He looks so put-out about it that Grantaire has to laugh

"It is not that bad," Grantaire reaches out to trace the sketch Enjolras has made. "You are merely drawing... fantasy creatures, instead of humans."

"Oh, very amusing," Enjolras retorts, blowing an errant curl out of his face. Grantaire realises that it really bothers Enjolras, the fact that he apparently cannot master this skill.

"What is the matter?" he asks, frowning. "It is merely art, Enjolras. You care little for it. I know."

Enjolras frowns. "I..." he stops himself.

Grantaire cocks his head to the side. "Yes?"

Enjolras answering smile is slightly embarrassed. "It matters to you," is all he says, and Grantaire feels breathless. Enjolras catches on to that, staring at him intently.

"It matters to you," he repeats. "And so, it matters to me."

Grantaire's breath hitches. "Oh," he mumbles. "Ah, well." Enjolras still looks a bit shy, but he is smiling.

"Everything about you matters to me," he says, and kisses Grantaire before he can come up with a reply. The sketches lay forgotten between them - paper overflowing with ink, as bodies overflow with passion and they forget about everything else.


End file.
